Guest writter: Kathy McNeily
Our good friend, Kathy shared the following poem. “Thought I would send this to you as I am not a poetry person, but wrote this in an attempt at poetry many years ago regarding the loss of a dear pet (those things have been happening a lot around here…) did the illustration as well,” she wrote. I would say she is a poetry person — we all are! Poetry is open, allowing entrance into the inter feelings of others.
Kathy recently lost another pet friend, which caused her to resurrect this poem written some years ago. I find it to be a beautiful marriage of feelings and emotions that when expressed in words is poetry.
“But, the fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side.”
An Irish Setter Puppy
She was red.
She was fluffy.
She was six weeks old.
She was an Irish Setter puppy.
They were young.
They were just married.
And not quite ready for a red, fluffy,
six-week-old Irish Setter puppy.
Everything was new.
Everything was exciting.
There were butterflies,
and bugs, and lizards,
and old shoes and new shoes.
Just for an Irish Setter puppy.
But no one is home.
There is nothing to do.
Just wait until they get home.
No fun for an Irish Setter puppy.
Until they get home there are plants,
and newspapers
and a pair of misplaced tennis shoes.
What fun for an Irish Setter puppy!
The fence isn’t very high.
There are open
fields on the other side.
There are birds, and
kittens and other puppies
for the Irish Setter puppy.
She was red.
She was sleek.
She was six years old.
She was an Irish Setter.
They were older.
They were married six years.
And not quite ready for the baby.
Interesting for an Irish Setter.
But what is a baby?
It doesn’t do anything. Much.
It lays there and they think it is cute.
It doesn’t play.
And it doesn’t want to be chewed on.
Frustrating to an Irish Setter.
The fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side.
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs for the Irish Setter.
She was red.
She was mature.
She was nine years old.
She was an Irish Setter.
They were older.
There were married nine years.
And ready for another baby.
It was comfortable for an Irish Setter.
Children are fun!
They play with her.
They pet her.
They feed her.
They love her.
But, the fence isn’t very high.
There are open fields on the other side.
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs for the Irish Setter.
She was red with some gray.
She was getting stiff.
She coughed now and then.
She was twelve years old.
She was an Irish Setter.
They were mature.
They were married twelve years.
And not quite ready to say
“good-bye” to an Irish Setter.
But the fence is too high.
There are open fields on the other side.
There are birds, and cats
and other dogs,
but it’s too hard for the Irish Setter.
She was red.
She was soft.
She was twelve years old.
She was an Irish Setter.
They missed her.
But somewhere she is red.
She is fluffy
and Irish Setter puppy.
— Kathy McNeily
Related articles
- The dog show lecture in Big Red (retrieverman.wordpress.com)
- NYT on Poetry (chloejenkinssleczkowski.com)
